


Here, In This Shelter

by chibimono



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Recall, re-establishing a relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21954619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibimono/pseuds/chibimono
Summary: There's a cabin in the woods that held their treasure from the rest of the world.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 8
Kudos: 80
Collections: Reaper76 Free For All Secret Santa 2019





	Here, In This Shelter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Echo_Dot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Echo_Dot/gifts).



> Happy holidays, friend Echo_Dot! The story got a way from me and went a tiny bit angsty, but I tried to cram as much fluff as I could get in through the rest of it. I was able to get all your other little points in that you wanted, though. So please enjoy some cuddles by the fire in a tree-decorated little cabin.
> 
> I must thank airafleeza, maderi, and AsheRhyder with all my heart, for fixing my words, holding my hand, and poking me when I needed the help. And also to foldingcranes and maderi for putting together the challenge for us this year!

The lone log cabin stood in the middle of a wooded, thirty-acre plot in the upper Midwest. The deed said it was owned by a one John Reyes, and the neighbors just expected him to be some sort of wealthy man that enjoyed solitude and hunting in his free time. Though the locals had spotted the caretakers that checked on the cabin every few months, no one ever met the fictional John Reyes, and that was pretty much how Jack and Gabe liked it.

After the Omnic Crisis, they pooled together their resources and purchased it on a whim. It was meant to be a place to hide away from the world when things became too stressful for the two best friends. Without electricity or running water, the place was never meant to be a long term escape, just somewhere secret to breathe and regroup before charging back into international peacekeeping. 

It was a place for the two of them when they managed to make it out there together. Slinking through the forest in the dead of night, no one could see them come and go, no one knew to bother them there. They were off the grid for a few days, living off what they brought along and sometimes even taking from the wilds around them. 

In the small one-room log cabin, they found they could connect in ways they never could out with the rest of the world. Without the eyes and ears of Overwatch or the politicians and paparazzi around them, they could give in to actions and words they were hesitant to share otherwise. What happened in their cabin stayed there, tucked away like a treasure.

Over the years, sneaking off to their cabin became harder with visits few and far between. Before the fall of Zurich, it was even difficult to keep the outside world from sneaking in with them. No one ever managed to track them to their hideaway, but sometimes they brought the anger and resentment themselves. Even hurting and yelling, at least here they could tell the truth and put their pain into words.

Just because they could leave the cabin behind and return to the real world, it never meant they’d left their love back there, too.

To find the cabin still standing was bittersweet. The money set aside for upkeep ran out at some point, allowing dust and disuse to creep in. Coming alone without Jack beside him felt like trespassing. Memories still laid out where they last left them: their favorite mugs on the fireplace mantel waiting for coffee, the throw blanket tossed over the back of the sofa as if they were just under it together. 

The withered remains of a Christmas tree slouched in the far corner, pine needles and some of the ornaments littering the floor. The last time they were here, the last time they were truly happy together, was for a late Christmas gift exchange in February. There was still snow on the ground, giving it the proper illusion that they weren’t a month and a half late. Despite the ache in his chest, Gabe could at least smile at the memory.

Running into Soldier: 76 out in Cairo a few months back--physically confirming Jack was still alive and fighting--left Gabe feeling painfully nostalgic as the holidays set in. Christmas would come in a few days’ time and Reaper finally found a break between assignments, allowing him to slip away from Talon for a little while and sink into loneliness with his old, battered heart.

He checked on the rain collection system, which was in need of patching. The old pile of wood for the fireplace was filled with termites, and upon further inspection, so was the cabin frame. At least two panes of glass in the windows were broken, the blackout curtains covering them worn through and shabby. The place was a busted shell of its former glory, their little love shack now just a broken-down shanty. With his own body falling apart into smoke and decay, he could relate.

With a deep sigh, Gabe pulled himself together. He couldn’t shake off the heartache, but he could try piecing this place back together. He cleaned up what he could of the dust and cobwebs with a moldy old broom, sweeping the pine needles out through the open door. He shook out the moth-eaten blankets on the sofa and bed, fluffed the flat, stale pillows. He gathered snow in the dish basin to melt for drinking water later. He unraveled the garland and removed the rest of the ornaments from the old tree and tossed its carcass out into the woods.

Standing in the middle of the cabin, it still felt empty and lifeless. He sighed and ventured back outside, heading into the storage space under the cabin. The hinges were rusted, and so was the stash of tools kept inside. Gabe grabbed the saw and wandered off in the evening’s twilight. It took an hour to find the patch of Christmas trees that Jack and Gabe found growing on the property long ago. Picking the right one and cutting it down alone with a dull, rusty saw took even longer.

The journey back was lit only by the moon and Gabe was frozen to his aching core by the time the cabin was in sight.

His nanites, fed well before he traveled out to the middle of nowhere, tasted another presence. Someone was inside. He dropped the tree and collapsed into smoke, trailing the snowy ground and scaling the side of the cabin. He slipped in through a broken window and paused.

Kneeling at the fireplace, trying to get kindling to catch fire, was Soldier: 76. Gabe had seen him so many times there, on his knees at the stonework, playing boy scout and blowing gently at little flickering embers. Warming the cabin and Gabe’s heart. The smug pride on his maskless, scarred face as he got the fire to take was so beautifully familiar it made Gabe ache to kiss him.

Still, Gabe hesitated to approach. Surprising him wasn’t a bright idea when Soldier’s rifle was propped near the fireplace and his pistol was still holstered at his thigh. He didn’t want to hurt Jack here, never here. Their poor little cabin didn’t need to be shot up with holes, either.

“Get inside and warm up,” Jack huffed, as if he could feel Gabe watching him through the broken glass.

That was an invitation enough. Retreating and solidifying, he made his way back to the tree. He took his time dragging it the last few feet, his hands struggling not to dissipate into vapor in his sudden nervousness. It took three tries to open the door, only to find Jack standing on the other side, his posture rigid and defensive. His face was stony and unreadable, his hands clenched at his side.

Gabe wouldn’t draw blood, not here. Not Jack’s. He stood just outside the cabin’s threshold and dropped the tree to show his empty hands. Soldier didn’t move, obviously not convinced that Reaper could be unarmed. Manifesting weapons from thin air was what he did, after all. 

But he wouldn’t let Jack feel unsafe here. This was their haven, their place to be true to themselves, to their hearts. 

Gabe released his mask in a wisp of inky black smoke. “Truce?” 

He didn’t know what state of decay his face was in, but Jack’s eyes softened at the sight of him.

“Welcome back to the armistice hut,” Jack said with a watery smile. “Now get inside. You’re letting all the warm air out.” 

Gabe brought in the tree, setting it in the stand in the corner as Jack went back to tending the fire. After some grumbling and cursing, Gabe had it secured and standing mostly upright. With a hesitance he’d never seen in Jack before, he made his way slowly to Gabe’s side, a wide distance between.

“It’s pretty. Nice and, uh. Full,” Jack said awkwardly, his arms folded over his chest as he surveyed Gabe’s find.

Gabe shrugged. “Considering I found it by the light of the moon, I got lucky.”

“Like a true Victorian goth,” Jack chuckled, a little smile peeking through.

“If I’d know you were coming, I would’ve waited. We could’ve sung Christmas carols the whole way.”

Sobering up quickly, Jack shook his head. “It’s hard to get in contact, with all the—” He waved his hand vaguely, and Gabe knew him enough to understand he was referring to the new Crisis starting and Talon’s increasing attacks. “It probably wasn’t a good idea to even come out here.”

The idea of Jack leaving him alone here made Gabe’s heart clench. He gently caught Jack by the elbow. “But we’re here. And we’re both cold. You’ve made a fire--the least we can do is enjoy it.”

Jack glanced down to the hand on his arm. Gabe willed his gauntlets away. His bare hand, gray and patchy, showed through the smoke. When Jack looked back up, regarding Gabe heavily, there was a deep sadness in those now milky blues.

“I’m so sorry, Gabe,” he whispered, his voice choked up. His gloved hand covered Gabe’s. “I never meant for things to go this way. I didn’t know how much damage SEP had done to you. I should’ve listened to you about Talon—“

“You’re cold, Jack,” Gabe said, feeling a shiver run through him. He pulled Jack over to the sofa, sitting down and arranging a blanket over both of them.

They sat in silence for a while, soaking up the radiant heat of Jack’s cheerful fire.

“I’m sorry I forced your hand, but I didn’t see any other way to get things done,” Gabe sighed. “They were already inside our walls, like roaches. But I never saw the explosion coming.”

“I thought you were dead,” Jack breathed, low and desperate. “I thought I’d never see you again. That I’d never be able to apologize.”

Gabe’s eyes stung. “I thought you died hating me.”

Slowly, gently, as if he was worried he’d be shoved away, Jack rested his head against Gabe’s shoulder. “You piss me off more than anyone alive, but I never hated you.”

Gabe leaned his head against Jack’s and found his hand, now without a glove, to hold under the blanket. “I still love you, too.”

They slept side by side on the sofa that night, despite the bed nearby, and woke a few times to add wood to the fire. They were up at dawn out of habit, coffee and protein bars in hand. They didn’t talk about which side they were on, the horrible things they did e, or anything more about their guilts and regrets. Their foundation was as chewed up and fragile as their termite-infested cabin, and they settled on leaving the world at the property’s edge. 

To keep busy as their conversations stalled and lulled, they worked at decorating the tree. An old familiarity set in as the day passed, the comforts they used to find in each other shaking loose and free with banter and small touches of their hands, shoulder bumps, and forehead touches. 

That evening they parted, sharing a shy kiss as the sky faded from pinks and golds to the velvet of night. It was timid and full of promise, their first kiss in years since Overwatch pulled them down. They kept it chaste, knowing they’d never leave if they pushed for more. They wanted to-- _ oh _ , they wanted to--but the world continued to turn and they had work to do. They tipped their foreheads together and smiled, breathing together. Their last words before they vacated the property were to make a standing date and always return for Christmas.

Over the next few years, they did. Once or twice they managed to meet outside of the holiday season, coordinating time in secret. It was difficult to turn missions down, but sometimes they had to, especially to be sure they were together for Christmas. Jack worked a fire so Gabe could cook simple meals. When they could, they made small repairs to the wear and tear that time had caused to their cabin. They dragged in their own Christmas trees to decorate. They relearned their rhythm together: dancing along to hummed songs, picking up morning and bedtime routines, making love. For their visits, they didn’t bring presents, convinced that their stolen time together and the rekindling of their love was enough of a gift.

Until Gabe found a present he had to share.

The fireplace crackled with a hearty fire, keeping the small cabin warm. Its flickering light reflected off the silvery tinsel garland and glittering ornaments on the tree. They laid on the sofa, with Gabe on his back and Jack resting between his legs, Jack’s head on Gabe’s chest to hear the synthetic beat of his nanite heart. 

Jack was exhausted, his nasty bullet wounds still healing from a bad firefight. Gabe was surprised that Ana even let him go, that there wasn’t a trail of blood in the snow leading the way to their little love shack. The ass even started the fire and helped Gabe with the tree before he said anything, only then lifting his compression shirt to check if he’d bled through the bandages just above his left hip.

Gabe fed him full of protein mix, some sandwiches, and canned soup heated by the fireplace. He checked on Jack’s stitches with tender hands and pressed get-well kisses to his bruises. He made them comfortable by removing their shirts and getting into sweatpants. Covered with a blanket, Jack dozed on his chest as Gabe traced his affection on Jack’s back.

“Mmhnn, ‘zat a dick?” Jack asked, sounding sleepy. Gabe could feel him smiling where his cheek was mashed against Gabe’s bare chest.

His fingertips doodled a few spatters to go with the dick. “Maybe.” Jack laughed lazily, the sound so sweet. Gabe wished he could hear it every morning, waking up in a warm bed with Jack in his arms.

One day, he actually might.

“Jack?” he whispered.

Jack sighed. “Mhmm?”

Gabe swallowed. “What if. What if I could get you Doomfist?”

He could feel Jack stirring from his drowsy relaxation. “Doomfist? What?”

“What if I could get you the whole Talon Council?”

With Gabe’s help, Jack was able to shift so he could comfortably look up at Gabe’s face. His blue eyes were bleary and still foggy with sleep. “Gabe, what are you talking about?”

“Sombra’s been collecting intel,” Gabe explained. “She’s been building it on everyone. She’s got enough that if Overwatch can drag them in, the UN could put them away for good.” Excitement bubbled in his voice. “Tie them up in so much bureaucratic red tape and criminal trials across the globe they’ll be in judicial proceedings for years. Anyone that might think of breaking them loose--she’s got blackmail on them, too. If I can get them for you, we can bring it all down.”

“Gabe.” Jack blinked a few times, disbelief making him frown. “You’re joking, right?”

“I couldn’t believe it myself when she showed me, and I’ve been helping her.” He huffed a laugh. Now that he’s finally said it all out loud, Gabe felt lightheaded and a little hysterical. “She’s got it all in order now. Everything’s in place, waiting.”

“We just have to bring them in?” Jack asked, a hopeful smile growing at the corners of his mouth.

“It’s not going to be easy, especially when they realize what’s coming for them,” Gabe pointed out, running his fingers into Jack’s white hair, massaging his scalp.

Jack’s smile only grew, pleased and dangerous. “I love a challenge,” he purred. After a moment, his expression shifted into something soft and wistful. “We can end the Crisis? Again? God, Gabe. Is it too early to imagine what we would do after?”

Gabe rubbed at a sore spot between Jack’s neck and shoulder, making him melt into a boneless heap on Gabe’s chest.

“I dunno,” Gabe hummed, still working at turning Jack into mush. “I was thinking. Mercenary work just isn’t my thing. Maybe I’ll hang up the leather and bone, put Reaper away for good.”

“You’re just going to retire?” Jack’s voice was small, his disappointment heartfelt.

Gabe hummed, stroking his beard in thought. “I’d get bored quick, probably. Might have to pick up a jacket with a blatant ‘24’ on the back. Play vigilante with my favorite soldier.”

Jack looked up to him again, his blue eyes shining in the firelight. “Gabe…”

“We could go anywhere,” Gabe promised him. “Or even just stay here. But we could be together, whatever we choose.”

Moving gingerly, Jack tried sitting up, Gabe having to help him ease his way onto Gabe’s lap. He leaned into Gabe, leaned in to kiss him hungry and breathless. Whether Jack was shaking from strain or from eagerness, Gabe gently supported him. 

Wetness fell as Jack’s breath hitched. “We don’t have to hide here anymore?” he mouthed against Gabe’s lips.

Wiping the tears from his own eyes, Gabe touched his forehead with Jack’s. “Baby, we won’t have to hide anything anymore.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on:  
> Twitter @chibimonoakuno  
> Tumblr @littlethingofevil  
> Pillowfort @chibimono


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